


An Interruption

by TheExplorer



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Crack, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-22
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-10 14:19:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4395128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheExplorer/pseuds/TheExplorer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Twelve and Clara find themselves in a tense moment in the TARDIS, but something just feels a little off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Interruption

**Author's Note:**

> (THIS IS A CRACK FIC. This was written in a hurry, and as a result is not as good as my usual writing. Please do not take this too seriously. I wrote it on a whim in one hour.)

 

               The Doctor stood at the TARDIS console, tapping at various mechanisms to ready the time machine for flight into the space-time vortex. Down from the stairs strolled Clara, the Doctor’s current companion. Her flared dress bottom swayed to and fro as she walked. They were just leaving the city of New Memphis, where the Doctor had taken Clara to the (now in working order) Elvis the King spaceport.

               “So, where to next, Doctor? And please, for once can we go somewhere where I don’t have to keep being the emotional one while you stand back with your cross eyebrows? It would be nice to not have that for a change, you know.”

               The Doctor merely frowned, his wiry grey eyebrows again forming into their accustomed shape. “I do _not_ do that-“ he blurted defensively, wheeling around and leaning down to look her in the face.

               “Yes, you do. You most _certainly_ do,” replied Clara, scowling right back and placing her hands defiantly on her hips as she leaned up into his face. She had to go up on her tip-toes, even with the old Time Lord leaning down, in order to come right face-to-face with him.

               “No, I do _not_ ,” the Doctor fought back. He leaned in even closer to her, so close that his curly hair seemed to want to bounce out and touch Clara. He firmly placed his hands on his hips, pushing back the red-lined jacket to put his hands onto the sweatshirt material of the hoodie he wore underneath. Standing like that was a power stance, and maybe it could help him

               “Oh, _yes you do_ ,” retorted Clara again, shoving her face even closer to his, to the point where their foreheads were touching. She could feel his hot breath on her face. She also noted, with some disgust that completely lacked any surprise, that he smelled like he hadn’t bathed in a while. This was what happened when she wasn’t in the TARDIS.

               Their foreheads now touching, he could almost hear her thoughts. This moment… he felt like he should do something. There was so much tension, but the moment seemed to have come out of nowhere. It almost felt like the only one he could break the tension was by… kissing her? No, that couldn’t be right. Why would he do that? She was Clara, his little human. His little pudding brain. He didn’t have any desire to kiss her. So why did he right now?

               At that same moment, Clara was also feeling the same tension. The also crossed her mind, much more quickly than it did the Doctor’s, that a kiss was the only way to break this tension. But- why? Something just felt _off_ to her. Like she wasn’t entirely in control of what was going on. For Clara, not being in control was a feeling she quite severely disliked.

               “Wait a minute,“ she said warily, pulling back and shoving his head away from hers. “This isn’t right. Something is definitely very not-right here.” She began to notice that the right side of her neck was, well, _itching_. Tingling and itching at the same time, like a bug was sitting there. Slapping a hand to her neck, instead of a bug, she grabbed off a small circular button that looked just like the mood manipulation patches that she’d seen in one of the spaceport’s shops. Looking over at the Doctor, she saw one on him as well.

               “Doctor! We’ve been bugged!” she exclaimed, as the Time Lord became alarmed, and slapped the device off of his own neck as well.

               “How did this happen? I never let this happen! I never let myself be bugged!” he said, his eyebrows now scowling at the small device, rather than at her. Angry, he turned back around to the console, flipping on the monitor screen to show what was right outside them. “This thing- it manipulated our emotions, our moods, our _actions_ , like a _TV remote_! Someone must have a _reason_ for doing that, and maybe they’re still outside watching!”

               As Clara stood next to, but not close to, the Doctor, she watched the monitor with equal interest. They hadn’t left the spaceport yet, so maybe they could still find who did this.

               What, or rather _who_ , they saw outside was not what either of them had anticipated. Leaning against the outside of the police box, fiddling with a device that looked suspiciously like some sort of command console, was a tall man with dark brown hair. What particularly caught the Doctor’s attention was the fact that the man wore a very distinct, and very out of place, World War Two greatcoat. There was only one man he knew who fit this description, and that man currently looked surprised and also _incredibly_ guilty.

               Stomping purposefully down the ramp, the Doctor made for the door, his eyebrows now scowling about as deeply as they possibly could. Secretly, though, he was pleased to see his old friend.

“YOU!” he shouted, flinging the TARDIS door open as he stepped out and pointed accusingly at the man. He skulked over, jabbing a finger at the chest of his old friend. “Jack Harkness. Should’ve known this was you.”

“Oh, the jig is up now, Doctor,” replied Jack with a cheeky smile. "You liked my little toy there? Or was the humor lost on you now? I knew it was you the moment I saw you walking through the port. You really haven’t gotten any better at not looking out of place. The least you could do is at least _try_ to give the local fashions a chance. I hear spandex is all the rage her in New Memphis.”

“ _You_ , you tinker with my emotions, and those of my _friend_ , and then expect me to just welcome you back with open arms?”

“A little ‘hello’ would suffice, you know,” replied Jack. With little warning, he stepped forward and enveloped the Doctor in a big hug. The Doctor, being himself, responded by scrunching up his face and tensing up his entire body. He only paused to reach up for the slightest of incredibly awkward pats on the other man’s waist.

“Easier there, bug guy. So, may I meet the latest addition?” Jack released the Doctor, patting him on the shoulder as the Doctor flinched in response. He then sauntered over to the doors of the police box-

-almost running into Clara, who had followed the Doctor out to see what in the Universe was going on. “Doctor, who-“

“Hello,” Jack said, reaching out a hand as he raised his eyebrows. “The name’s Captain Jack Harkness.”

Clara tried to hide a blush, but before she could even take the man’s hand, the Doctor blurted out a response.

“Stop it!” he retorted grumpily, walking over to push them apart. “You’ve done enough!”

“Technically, Doctor, he was just being polite,” Clara said.

“Polite, my arse. He does this to everyone. Back in the TARDIS, Clara.” With that, the old Time Lord rather forcefully shoved Clara back inside the doors of the police box. “And you-“ he said to Jack, moving himself inside the doors, “You can just stay out. Out with your meddling.” With that, he shut the door.

“Well, that was uncharacteristically rude. Not even a ‘hello’. Really, Doctor, you’re losing your touch.

“Doctor-“ Clara said, back in the TARDIS. She was annoyed that he had so rudely closed the door, regardless of whatever ridiculous history he had with this Jack fellow.

“Shhhhhh, shh shh,” shushed the Doctor, his back against the door, one hand massaging his shut eyes as the other hand held out one finger to her. After a few seconds, the Doctor gave a sigh. He then turned back around, opening the doors and saying: “I better not regret this, or I’m kicking you right out.”

“Hey!” exclaimed Jack, as the Doctor’s arm reached out and pulled him in.

From outside, all that might’ve been noticed by the passing crowd was a navy coat disappearing through the doors of an old British police box, followed by a creaking and groaning sound as winds suddenly appeared, leaving an empty space where the box had stood.


End file.
